


in the moment we're ten feet tall

by subtlyhaught



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, basically 1x06 but make it hosie, basically theres no plot, bc hope was on her way to the party so, but idk i keep thinking about what we couldve got if jo didnt bury josie alive, like nothing happens, my posie shipper ass couldnt resist giving them a nod tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23357383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlyhaught/pseuds/subtlyhaught
Summary: “Of course,” Hope replied. Josie didn’t meet her eye. “Couldn’t miss another Saltzman birthday, could I?”or, 1x06 but make it hosie
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 14
Kudos: 280





	in the moment we're ten feet tall

**Author's Note:**

> HI HEADS UP this is my first time writing hosie and i have no clue how to write ms hope mikaelson so, with that in mind, proceed
> 
> yes s1 e6 came out literally dec 2018 yes im thinking about the fact that hope and lizzie weren't rly friends at this point but hope and josie had bonded enough for hope to give josie a necklace for her birthday and slip a note in her room and how josie was on her way to the party when she got buried alive but hope was also going to go to the party and like what if things had just worked out for once in their lives, yk?
> 
> anyway here's this there is literally no plot but josie thinks hope is pretty and maybe she deserves to feel a little special

It was weird, getting all dressed up.

It was weird having her mom help her.

(Her dead mom, to boot.)

Josie had never considered making a fuss about her sweet sixteen. Lizzie had dreamed of the shimmers and the shine of it all since maybe before she could even talk, so Josie let her do the fussing. It was her day too, after all, and she seemed to want it more than Josie had anyway. Lizzie prepped and nagged and perfected every piece of party, and Josie told herself she was content to let Lizzie take the reins, take this whole shebang off her hands. All Josie had to do was take care of Lizzie, and that seemed to be no different than any other day.

Except for the fact that it was, a little. 

And Josie was a little, maybe just the teeny tiniest bit jealous. Just a little bit.

Lizzie had gotten the guy, gotten the party, gotten her (gross, sweaty) gym sex, while Josie brushed Lizzies hair and missed their mom. Both of them.

That may have led to some, perhaps irrational, poorly planned out decisions, but at this point in the year, no one at school could judge her. Especially not after Penelope had told her to  _ carpe diem,  _ so to speak. Maybe in not so many words, and perhaps with a significantly more pronounced venom that was definitely directed at Lizzie, but her point still stood.

It was nice: Jo brushing out her hair, pinning it back, talking in her ear about boys and girls and meaningless things that meant everything to Josie. Maybe she was that week's newest monster, but she was also Josie’s mom, and Josie hadn’t realized she could miss someone who she had never met this much. 

Inviting her to the party was reckless: it was, really, truly, but damn it if Josie didn’t want one thing to be her own. 

They made it there without a hitch. There was this pit in Josie’s stomach that kept telling her that this was a bad idea, but they were here now, and maybe things would actually work out for once. Maybe. 

MG was dancing with Lizzie to some kind of uppity song Josie didn’t recognize, but the sight made her smile. Lizzie, bless her soul, was a bit of an awkward dancer, but her grin was wide and all consuming and it was clear MG was having the time of his life. They looked good together. 

“Which one of the boys is that?” Jo asked, and Josie threw a glance at her over her shoulder. 

“MG,” she responded and her eyes slipped back to the sight of them.

“Is Rafael here?” 

Josie frowned a bit at the question, noting, in fact, that Raf was nowhere to be found. “It doesn’t look like it.” 

“Maybe,” Jo said, humming a little, all scheming-mother-like, “you could still shoot your shot with him, then.”

“Maybe,” Josie grinned, looking back at Jo again, feeling warm and light, like this was how it was all meant to be. Josie, at her sweet sixteen with her mom, watching her best friend and her sister party and laugh and have everything fall into place, like it was supposed to. Like Lizzie dreamed of. 

But then Josie was looking back at the crowd, only to find Rafael shouldering his way through a group of witches as a much, much slower song came on. He tapped MG on the shoulder, whispered a few things, and suddenly he had a hand on Lizzie’s waist and MG was backing away slowly, looking positively grief stricken. 

What really caught Josie’s eye, however, was just a little ways past where Rafael was now swaying idly with Lizzie.

Hope Mikaelson, in a crimson red dress Josie had no idea when she had come by owning, her hair done up, curled, her lips painted red. She was looking around the room - nervous, if Josie were to guess. Hope wasn’t exactly popular, or well-liked. Just well known. The fact that she had even come to this party was making Josie’s head hurt, and yet she still couldn’t look away from the sight. Even when Hope caught her eye.

She sent her a smile and a little wave, and Josie’s hand subconsciously flew to her pendant. It was cold, heavy, resting in the hollow between her collarbones. A kind of reminder of this tentative newfound friendship Josie had with the Mikaelson. A reminder of what she used to have with her, too.

“Is that the girl you were telling me about?” 

Jo’s voice felt almost jarring, pulling Josie out of her moment, causing her to blink a few times to regain herself, to recall what Jo was referencing. 

“No, that’s,” Josie paused, clearing her throat a bit, her eyes finding Hope again, “that’s not her. That’s Hope Mikaelson.”

“Mikaelson?” Josie could hear the questions in her tone, itching to get out. Josie could answer them, she knew she could, but none of them ever reached her ears. “Go talk to her,” Jo breathed, and her hand found Josie’s lower back, pushing her forward. “She looks like she needs a friend.”

It was hard to object with Jo’s hand pressing against her, inching her across the dance floor, but Josie still tried. Not very hard, to be fair, but some noncommittal guttural sounds did manage to leave her lips before she reached the point of no return, and she  _ had  _ to start walking towards Hope herself or risk Jo pushing her all the way across the room and draw more attention. 

Hope noticed: she always did, had eyes that wandered, travelled, picked up on things no one else would. Her eyes were on Josie immediately, the second she started in her direction. Josie could feel them on her, knew there was a laugh threatening to spill from her lips without even having to look at Hope’s face.

But she did anyway.

She had this kind of closed lip smile that would absolutely be all teeth if she weren’t managing to contain it, and it made Josie feel kind of alight with this shy giddiness all of a sudden. 

Hope spoke first, sounding much happier than Josie could ever remember hearing her, which was a trip in it of itself. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Josie breathed back. Then, much more lamely: “You came.”

“I did,” Hope said, glancing around the space, almost in awe. “Quite the party.” 

“Lizzie planned it,” Josie said, feeling the need to explain it away all of a sudden. “She’s been dreaming of her sweet sixteen since she knew what a sweet sixteen was.” 

“I can imagine,” Hope rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet a bit, as though trying to get the nerves out of her body. She shook out her hands just very slightly, before lacing them together, and it took Josie a moment to realize that Hope probably felt just as out of place dressed up like this as she did. Not that Josie knew exactly what to do about that, but still, it was something she took note of. 

The two fell into silence for a moment, not used to actively being in the same room and around each other by choice. Josie pursed her lips, bringing her hand up to toy with the pendant again, as though it was a tick she’d had for years and not just something she’d started doing maybe 20 minutes ago.

“You wore it,” 

Josie almost startled at Hope’s voice, nearly forgetting she was standing beside her, despite them speaking not even thirty seconds prior.

She felt kind of self conscious, all of a sudden, thinking she may have looked like she was playing with the pendant on purpose to draw Hope’s attention. “I did,” she hummed, feeling a little silly, a little flushed, as her fingers ran over the etched design. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Hope replied. Josie didn’t meet her eye. “Couldn’t miss another Saltzman birthday, could I?”

“Lizzie didn’t get one,” 

“Yeah, well,” Hope breathed in, pausing for a moment as her eyes fell on Rafael and Lizzie. “Baby steps.”

Josie nodded, and the two of them fell quiet again, as the song switched back to something a little more upbeat (though also painfully early 2000s-esque).

It was a nice party, Josie had to say. It was very blue themed, very Lizzie Saltzman, but Josie’s name was plastered on all the  _ Happy Birthday  _ banners as well, and it made her feel just a little special. The witches were behaving; mostly sticking to their own covens, but Josie spotted a few that were dancing with wolves and vamps alike. Wolves and vamps who weren’t, for once, fighting with each other. That may have been more due to the fact that if anyone were to ruin Lizzie Saltzman’s sweet sixteen, they’d almost definitely wake up with scabies, but it was still nice to see them get along.

And then there was Hope, whose presence here counted more as a personal win for Josie, though that’s not something she’d ever admit outloud. Josie had always had a weird relationship with the tribrid, never really knowing how to talk to her. She seemed so much more mature than anyone Josie had ever known growing up, so untouchable, unreachable, and it didn’t help that she completely closed herself off after her dad died. 

(It also didn’t help that Josie used to harbor a fat crush on her and was an absolute dolt about it and had spent the last few years accidentally-on-purpose trying to cover up her mistakes.)

Now, with the pounding music and the bustle of bodies, Hope looked almost like she was ready to bolt. For one reason or another, Josie  _ really  _ did not want her to, so she cleared her throat.  _ Carpe diem  _ or whatever.

“Do you dance?” Josie tried.

Hope quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think I dance?”

“Do you want to?” Josie countered, surprising herself a bit with how forward the question came out. 

But Hope was grinning, her eyes becoming with almond shapes under the bunching of her cheeks, and Josie figured maybe being a little brazen wasn’t such a bad idea. “Why not?”

And then Josie was being drug onto the dance floor by Hope Mikaelson, of all people, while a shitty early 2000s song played in the background, and it was absolutely thrilling. The two weren’t fabulous dancers, Josie was fully aware she was no MG, but Hope was laughing at Josie’s terrible rendition of a robot and Josie was getting her arms tangled trying to spin Hope around and everything felt  _ good.  _

Three or four songs passed before another slow song came on, something with a guitar, and some kind of synth, something Josie vaguely recognized as a song Lizzie used to listen to a few months ago. 

Josie kind of expected this to end her expedition into this tentative relationship with Hope, assuming the tribrid wasn’t here for a slow dance, especially not with her, not with someone she really had only just started talking to. But then Hope had some kind of small, slightly dorky smile on her face, and she offered Josie her hand with an underlying sheepishness to it, and how could Josie refuse. 

Her hands fell easily around Hope’s waist, a little higher than would be expected, somewhere decidedly  _ friendly.  _ Hope, delicate as ever, managed to rest her hands on Josie’s shoulders in a way that made her touch feel fleeting, as though it wasn’t really there. It brought them closer together though, close enough that Josie could count Hope’s eyelashes if she concentrated, close enough that she could feel the puffs of breath Hope would let out against her collarbones. It was all a little dizzying, if she were being honest.

“Thank you for coming,” Josie managed to wrangle up, feeling the need to fill the space with conversation.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Hope said, her voice coming out almost like a murmur, and far too sincere. It seemed to even catch her off guard a little, her head jerking back just the slightest as though she was surprised at herself, and she tried again: “I’m glad I came. I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

Josie smiled a bit at that, knowing Hope hadn’t really left her side all night, that she was the reason Hope Mikaelson was having fun at a party for the first time in years. “What changed your mind?” Then, as an afterthought: “Dad says you’re usually in your dorm watching Cutthroat Kitchen when everyone’s out partying.” 

“And I thought student-teacher solidarity was a thing,” Hope breathed out a laugh, rolling her eyes a bit. “Raf actually said some things, convinced me to give it a go.”

“Can I ask what?” Josie hummed, trying to keep the dialogue light.

“Just what everyone else has been saying. That maybe I should be doubling down on friends.”

“Oh,” Josie said. It felt lame on her tongue, but her mind was a bit preoccupied with catching up to the fact that Hope considered them friends. 

“Yeah,” Hope said, looking a bit like she thought her response was lame too. “I don’t know, I guess I figured maybe I should get out of my head a bit.” 

“Well, I’m glad you came,” the words sounded far too familiar on Josie’s tongue, and she visibly cringed, remembering how she had begun this conversation in the first place, “I already said that.”

“You did,” Hope said, but it was accompanied by a laugh, and Josie’s insides felt like they were melting. 

“Sorry,” It was more of a mumble on Josie’s end, accompanied by a glance down at her shoes. Her ears felt hot - not overly so, not to get red, but just enough to make her feel ridiculous for being embarrassed. Getting flustered was nothing new to Josie, but getting flustered this close to Hope Mikaelson’s face felt entirely too personal.

“It’s okay, Jo, it was cute,” Hope said, brushing her thumbs along her shoulders, feather light.

And Josie tried to keep her heart in her chest at the words, she really did. 

The night ambled on in a similar fashion: Hope never leaving Josie’s side. In all honesty, it felt refreshing to not have to worry about Hope trying to get her sister's attention instead, or Hope being close friends with her ex, both of whom made appearances throughout the night that felt easier to brave with Hope by her side. Lizzie, of course, was not so happy at the sight of Josie and Hope slow dancing, even hissing in her ear  _ you brought Hope Mikaelson as your date?  _ Josie had fired back a quick  _ it’s my birthday, too,  _ but only realized too late she hadn’t corrected Lizzie on the date part. Her interaction with Penelope was much shorter lived, and left her feeling a little aching on the inside. A part of her always would belong to the shorter girl, whether or not she wanted it to, and she was only reminded of it when they met eyes: Penelope on the balcony, overlooking the dance floor, and Josie looking up, her hands on Hope’s waist. Penelope had smiled, flashed her a thumbs up, but Josie caught her swiping at her face before she turned into the crowd, and Josie tried channeling her bone deep pain of it by daring to look into Hope’s eyes as they swayed.

Otherwise, the night had practically gone off without a hitch: the cake, the confetti, all of it. Lizzie seemed a little off, something Josie noticed halfway through the night, but she put on a brave face and celebrated and danced with Rafael and MG, and, of course, their dad, for their father-daughter dance. Josie didn’t know where Jo had gone at this point in the night, but she hoped she was watching, hoped she was proud of how far they’d come. 

Eventually, the night ended with Josie trailing just a little behind Hope, her dress dragging lazily across the Salvatore School’s floors as she walked the tribrid to her room.

“You know,” Hope said, smiling a little as she spoke, and Josie noted this was probably the most she had seen Hope smile her whole life. “I should probably be the one walking you to your room. It  _ is  _ your birthday.” 

“I have a sneaking suspicion my room might be… otherwise occupied,” Josie responded, shuddering to think of what shenanigans Lizzie may be up to. “Better to give Lizzie some time to remember we share a room.”

“If you insist,” Hope said, still smiling, still making Josie’s heart swoop. 

Hope’s room was two doors down by now, and they reached it within seconds, both coming to a stop in front of the closed door. Josie hadn’t exactly thought this through, didn’t really know what she had planned on doing after she had reached Hope’s dorm, but here she was. 

Hope didn’t make any move to open the door immediately, and when she did, it was only after she cleared her throat, jerking back into motion like she had been shoved. Her hand fiddled slightly with the knob, but the door swung open not a moment later with a nasally creek. 

Josie watched Hope take a step toward her dorm, slowly, deliberately, as though thinking in slow motion. 

She turned on her heel. “Thank you,” she said, closing her eyes a little as she spoke, as though still trying to think of the next thing she wanted to say, “for tonight. I’m, uhm,” a pause, an inhale, Hope’s eyes opening, “I’m glad you liked your necklace.”

“Honestly, I should be the one thanking you,” Josie said, “without you I probably would’ve been hanging out with my dad all night.”

Hope chuckled, and Josie fought the urge to step too close, much too close. The urge to press her face to Hope’s, to nudge their noses together, keep their foreheads touching. Nothing else, nothing but the need to be close to the tribrid, all of a sudden, nothing more demanding than that, but still, somehow, suffocating all of a sudden. It felt familiar, it felt like being twelve again, it felt like Josie was doomed.

“My pleasure, then,” Hope said, and her eyes met Josie's, her smile faltering for a moment, and Josie wondered, for a sickening second, if she knew. 

Josie just watched. Watched Hope dart her tongue out to wet her lips, watched her eyes flicker over Josie’s face, watched the gears turning in her head, like she was trying to fit pieces of a puzzle together that only she could see, and Josie wished she knew how to read minds. 

The moment felt too long. Painfully charged. Josie wondered if maybe she should bid Hope a goodnight and then leave, save her the embarrassment of saying some more lame things in front of her childhood crush. Then Hope was clearing her throat again for the second time in two minutes, and Josie was forced to focus on reality again. 

“Would you, maybe,” Hope started, shuffling her feet a little, casting her gaze towards the ground. “Do you maybe want to, like, sleep over, or something?”

And Josie had tried to fight a lot of things in the last few minutes, but the smile that broke across her features was impossible to contain. 

**Author's Note:**

> on instagram as @ josiesltz, twitter @ jsiesaltz, and tumblr as @ i-said-oops
> 
> also thank you mads for reading this at like one thirty am


End file.
